


That Time Charlotte Richards Was a Mother to a Sleepy Devil

by SK_Kasai



Series: PromptSmiles [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, LuciferLockDown, Post-Season/Series 04, PromptSmiles, Whump, just a little bit though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23235829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SK_Kasai/pseuds/SK_Kasai
Summary: "Lucifer," she ventured, her heart breaking, "I can't pretend to begin to understand what you're going through."He snorted, but his eyes remained so... hopeful. Just how badly did he need someone to be there for him? It must have been badly enough if she, Charlotte Richards, of all people was driving him home for a much-needed nap. She was feeling bad, really,reallybad for her earlier callousness with him."But," she continued, smiling as ifthathad a hope in imporving this nightmare, "I'm... here for you. I believe you. I can't promise that I'll have a concrete solution for whatever you're going through, but I've heard that talking to someone helps?"He was silent for a long time, just staring ahead. Charlotte did not push him, almost at her own personal limit for all thissoftstuff. She was trying to be a better person though. Surely, this was the right path?"Remember when Amenadiel and I showed you my wings?" He said after what felt like a long, long time.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Lucifer Morningstar & Mother of Angels | Charlotte Richards, Lucifer Morningstar & Original Charlotte Richards
Series: PromptSmiles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671241
Comments: 37
Kudos: 256
Collections: Prompts for Smiles





	That Time Charlotte Richards Was a Mother to a Sleepy Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Navaros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navaros/gifts).



> As part of the awesome PromptSmiles project, and to the brilliant Navaros, you get this!
> 
> The prompt was: "Charlotte being a mother to Lucifer when he needs it"
> 
> I hope I've managed to do it justice... I've always thought that Lucifer could have used someone helping me during the events of "The Angel of San Bernardino". So... Charlotte might have been busy, but, hey, I guess that's what fanfiction is for, right?
> 
> Happy Mothers Day to anyone reading this! Also, please stay safe and be very, very careful during these horrid times.

Charlotte Richards was a busy, busy woman.

Between her job, trying to talk to her family, and attempting to find ways to escape ending up in hell again... Her plate was more than full.

However, when she saw Lucifer pacing by the elevators looking like _that_ … She had to stop. She just had to.

Admittedly, she had been forging a strange bond of sorts with both of Lucifer and Amenadiel ever since they had revealed divinity to her in the form of the former's majestic wings. She felt an odd attachment to both of them as well; to Lucifer more than his brother actually. Sometimes, after she had had a few drinks to loosen up her mind and logical processing, she wondered if she was experiencing some sort of the Goddess'... emotional residues?

That had to be the only explanation for the multitude of emotions tugging her towards the haggard man. She was a mother; she could recognize her own maternal instincts acting up. The problem was that they shouldn't have been targeted at a being who was older than time itself...

She walked up to him, heels echoing loudly in the almost empty hallway. Charlotte's worry only grew as she took in his rumpled suit, his greasy hair, his deathly pallor, and his red-rimmed eyes. He looked ill or on the verge of death. Did angels even get sick?

"Lucifer?" She hesitated, bringing her hand to rest on his tense bicep in a poor attempt to draw his attention to her.

She had not been prepared to see him flinch like that. 

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

"Lucifer?" She cleared her throat, curt and straightforward. Not drawing attention to his skittish behaviour was probably the best tactic for now, right?

"Charlotte!" He smiled, but it was all wrong. It was dazed and forced; lacking an ounce of his usual, devilish charm. The alarm bells chiming in her head were almost deafening at this point.

The elevator doors slid open. She followed the devil in, sighing in relief when no one else entered the lift. 

"What happened to you?" She inquired.

"Am perfectly fine,mu- Charlotte. Charlotte!" He blushed, ducking his head in a way that shrouded his manic eyes.

"Lucifer, you look like you are about to keel over and die." She remarked dryly, adjusting her grip on the stacks of paper cradeled in her arms.

"I wish!" He laughed, loud and off-key.

_Something was very wrong._

They reached the parking lot, Lucifer strolling out hurriedly before her. He seemed to look around the parking lot for a minute, frowning as if he forgot what the purpose of such a place was. Just how long had it been since he got any sleep?

"Lucifer?" She approached him carefully, refaining from touching him this time, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." He scoffed, turning on his heel to give her his best current imitation of a charming smile, "The devil is _always_ alright, darling."

Always alright...? She had seen a _lot_ of broken men in her long career, but none of them came as close to having issues as Lucifer did.

_Always alright, my ass..._

"Where are you going to go now?" She asked instead, tagging along with him to his Corvette, evening plans forgotten.

"LUX." He answered simply, "Where else would I be going, dear Charlotte? It isn't like anybody wants me anywhere and I _own_ LUX."

"So?" She swallowed, trying to find a way to address his bitter statement. Why had she followed him? It was obvious that he needed someone to talk to, but wouldn't Doctor Linda be a better option? Surely, anyone but her...

"So? Nobody can kick me out!" He scowled, "Nobody can dismiss me and nobody can tell me what to do! Well, unless the wings get involved and Dear Old Dad..." He quieted, looking sullen before sliding into his car. It could have the anger or the sleep-deprivation, but he tripped and nearly smashed his face into the vintage steering wheel in the process.

"Careful!" She chided, the strange worry within her coming back with a vengeance.

Lucifer just rolled his eyes.

"Even with _her_ nearby, I would've been fine. Honestly, Charlotte, the things you waste your time on..."

She had to agree with him there. This was a probable waste of time. She had much bigger things to worry about (like eternal damnation for instance.) 

Hence, the ex-lawyer was going to do what was sensible and go back to her busy day. Bitchy, whiny, insomniac angels be damned.

"What are you going to do once you get to LUX?" She found herself asking. It would be just this one question and then she would go. She wouldn't look back. She wouldn't care. As far as she was concerned, the devil wouldn't exist anymore for her for a few hours once she turned on her heel and left.

"Is this an interrogation now, eh?" He groused.

"Lucifer, just answer the question, please." She added, almost an afterthought.

"The usual." He answered, tapping his fingers on the steering where, "I'll have me an orgy or five, some drinks, some coke and Adderall, and maybe find another show like Bones or something after all the humans pass out or go home. I just _need_ to stay awake. That's all that matters."

Was he insane?

The sheer amount of...

Surely, Doctor Martin must be underpaid if a sentence could hold so much issues to address.

"What matters is that you get some sleep." She replied.

"I CAN'T!" He yelled, startling her and anyone in the dark garage, "I... can't go to sleep. Why can't any of you understand?" His voice fell to a whisper at the end, unseeing eyes hardly even blinking. 

Almost on autopilot, she found herself moving away once she blinked out of her shock. Any other person yelling at her like that and she would have probably destroyed them. But Lucifer?

He must have thought that she was finally leaving because he immediately revved up the engine and got ready to head home to his platitude of unhealthy coping mechanisms. Too bad that she still heard his broken, little laugh.

"What are you doing?" He breathed, "The party won't start for a few hours and while they're usual open for anyone... Well, since your lovely body was once inhabited by my mother, I would find it very disturbing if you-" 

"I don't want to attend one of your stupid orgies!" She snorted, "I want you to get some sleep."

"None of you ever listen to a single word I say, huh?"

"Lucifer, you can tell me all about it on the ride to LUX." She sighed.

"I'm not driving you anywhere!"

"Damn, right you're not." She smirked, seeing him smile in triumph, "You're obviously in no condition to drive. Get in."

He stared at her, horrified. Charlotte found him eerily similar to her son, indigent after she gave him a stern talking-to of sorts. It would have been funny had he not looked on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"You are not my mother!"

"One of the things to be grateful for every single day." She retorted easily, "Now get in, Lucifer. I'm not repeating myself another time."

He stared at her, mouth hanging open, the picture of incredulity. He looked as if he was going to speed out of the parking lot had she not been grasping the door in her hand.

"Lucifer." She warned.

He let go of the steering wheel again, gobsmacked. As she watched him get out and take a seat where she pointed, Charlotte wondered if he knew that he had never stood a chance against her. Goddess or no goddess, she was a mother after all. She handed him her files, buckling in and ordering him to do the same. 

He kept staring at her every now and then between bouts of almost dozing off. She almost felt bad. Was he wondering how she was such a good driver of his precious car? Perhaps he was more preoccupied with whatever landed him in such a state...?

"So," She began, looking at him from the corner of her eyes, "care to tell me what has the big, bad devil so scared?"

"I'm not scared!" He snapped, "And... who else would it be?" He rolled his eyes at her again, "He's been doing this for millenia."

"This?"

"Controlling me!" He seethed, eyes begging her to understand, "Taking away my choices; my free will! Torturing me with his endless mind games!"

"Lucifer-"

"Yes, yes, yes; you don't believe me." He groaned, "I know. I've heard the same _ridiculous_ speech several thousand times by now, thank you very much. At least you don't think I'm a delusional madman, I suppose."

"Lucifer," she ventured, her heart breaking, "I can't pretend to begin to understand what you're going through."

He snorted, but his eyes remained so... hopeful. Just how badly did he need someone to be there for him? It must have been badly enough if she, Charlotte Richards, of all people was driving him home for a much-needed nap. She was feeling bad, really, _really_ bad for her earlier callousness with him.

"But," she continued, smiling as if _that_ had a hope in imporving this nightmare, "I'm... here for you. I believe you. I can't promise that I'll have a concrete solution for whatever you're going through, but I've heard that talking to someone helps?"

He was silent for a long time, just staring ahead. Charlotte did not push him, almost at her own personal limit for all this _soft_ stuff. She was trying to be a better person though. Surely, this was the right path?

"Remember when Amenadiel and I showed you my wings?" He said after what felt like a long, long time.

His voice was quiet and gravely. His eyes were downcast, staring at his hands as he fideled with them in his lap. He alternated between tracing mindless patterns on the hard cover of her folders to tapping his fingers against his own thigh as if he had been playing his beloved piano. She could see him squirming and fidgeting, restless despite the exhaustion evident in every line of his body.

"How can I possibly forget?"

And so he told her. For a significant portion of their traffic-addled ride, Lucifer talked and talked.

She listened.

She listened to him prattle on about his wings, about the "Angel of San Bernardino", about his Detective not listening to his warnings, about Cain and all manners of insanity that were his day-to-day life.

Of course, she couldn't pretend to understand half of what he was saying much less have a solution for any of it. More often than not, she was stuck still wondering if she was, in fact, insane. It would have made more sense than the broken devil sitting next to her. Wasn't he supposed to be evil incarnate?

But he wasn't. It didn't even take her a lot of honesty to admit that she had been much more evil than the poor man while living a lifespan that might have as well been equivalent to a blink of an eye compared to his. 

He was the broken product of the most dysfunctional family that she had ever seen (which was saying a _lot_ ). He needed help and although she did not understand it, Charlotte found something within her pleading with her to give him a hand.

Lucifer eventually dozed off. Somewhere between telling her about the Detective's reaction to his dilemma (ouch) and how futile cutting his wings off was becoming ( _OUCH! He... He'd done that more than once? Ouch, ouch, ouch!_ )

She let him sleep. It was partially because she had nothing to say and partially because she was almost horrified at the sheer number of words urging to burst from her mouth. She wanted to scoop him into her arms and hide him from _everything_ , heavenly garrison and supreme creator included. But she had no interpretation for this urge or these warm feelings in her chest. Was this what being good entailed or was it all something more?

When she reached the huge, white building, Charlotte wondered if she ought to wake him up. He _obviously_ needed as much shut-eye as he could get and then some more, but...

As she sat there in the expensive vintage, staring at the slumbering devil next to her, Charlotte wondered if she ought to be experiencing her own mental breakdown. Wouldn't it be reasonable when she was having flashes of her stay in hell every time she closed her eyes and worrying about Satan getting enough sleep and therapy half the time her eyes were open?

He made her mind up for her, jolting awake with a sharp breath. He looked like a cornered animal, analysing his surroundings in a desperate search for danger. Wouldn't it have been better if the danger was around them as something tangible? Being stuck in the confines of his own troubled mind and psyche seemed much more torturous.

"Apologies." He whispered, rubbing at his eyes with his fist and looking _adorable_ while doing it.

"Nothing to be sorry for." She shrugged, nonchalant.

They took the elevator up to his Penthouse, the silence among them awkward and tense. 

"You... You're not going to make me sleep are you?" He asked once the doors opened, running straight for his grand alcohol display.

"Lucifer, I don't think anyone can _make_ you do anything."

Judging by his pained gasp, that had been a horrible choice of words. 

Shit. Shit. _Shit!_

"I still think you need to sleep though." She emphasized, "Alcohol is also a bad idea, probably."

He scoffed, drowning his tumbler of rich, amber liquid in a long gulp. 

She threw her files on the couch haphzzardly, walking over to him and snatching the tumbler from his hands.

"Hey!"

He went to grab another one, deciding that trying to reclaim his old one was too much effort. She swatted his arm, levelling him with her best stern listen-here-young-man glare.

"You need to sleep." She repeated for what felt like the trillionth time.

"Haven't you heard a word I said?" He graoned, "I can't, Charlotte. I can't let Him..."

"I'll take care of it." She promised, gently steering him towards his bedroom. Lucifer followed blindly, too tired to care where he was going.

"And how will you do that?" He challenged, "Are you going to find a way to help me cut off my wings for good? Storm the gates of the Silver City and tell Him off? What are going to do, Charlotte, because _I_ , for one, would _love_ to know!"

She did not react to his rant, concern being the only thing she was capable of identifying in her emotions. 

"I'll wake you up if you start... flying." She offered.

"Wake me up?" Lucifer laughed, "How are you going to wake a sleep-flying devil up?" He asked seriously, "I wouldn't want to decapitate you by accident!"

That was a legitimate concern? What was she even getting herself into?!!

"I'll figure something out." She shrugged, "Now change out of your suit and get in bed."

"You know when people ask me to get in bed, it's usually in a _very_ different tone and for _very_ different reasons." 

She rolled her eyes at him, pointing to where she assumed his closet was.

Lucifer gave her a curious look, going along with it just for the sake of going along.

When an eternity seemed to pass with nothing coming from where he disappeared off into, Charlotte returned to her worry. Had he fallen asleep somewhere amid a fortune's worth of designer suits?

She rushed in after him when she heard a loud crash emanating from the closet only to find him on the floor, shirtless.

"Lucifer?"

"It's nothing!" He called out, stumbling to his feet, "Nothing! Just... just go and I'll be along shortly."

His pants were half undone, hanging loosely at his hips. His belt was half undone, on its way to joining his dress shirt and suit jacket on the floor. Thankfully, he was wearing black, silk boxers underneath.

"Did you doze off while changing?"

His ears burned. He refused to meet her eyes, tugging on his belt and trying to get it out the wrong way. Lucifer, dazed and discovering whole new levels of exhaustion with each passing second, didn't seem to realize why he couldn't undo his belt.

She regarded him, biting her lip. He... he looked pathetic like this. Her heart twisted, watching him fumble and scoff at himself. 

Approaching him slowly, she batted his hands away and undid the belt herself. Lucifer froze, flinching. Was this flinching of his a new development or had it always been there?

She shushed him, not even manging to crack a small smile at how his face burned.

"That belt is obviously faulty." He mumbled at last, shimmying out of his pants.

"Obviously." She agreed, wondering why she was even trying to spare whatever remained of his pride.

Lucifer seemed to realize that he was standing there awakwardly in front of her in nothing but his boxer shorts. His face reddened even more and he hurried away. That had to be uncharacteristic, right? Since when did the man care about public nudity?

She went back to the main living area, not wanting to smother him. With him not there for her to worry about, Charlotte had more than enough time to panic over the state of the Penthouse.

Dozens of Redbull cans, remainders of lines of cocaine and who knows what else, alcohol bottles, discarded clothing and toys...

It was bad.

It was really, really bad.

She felt that she was witnessing his dwindling mental sate come to life in the wrecked apartment. Even she knew him to be pristine and neat, almost to an obsessive degree. This was... Shouldn't he be in a celestial asylum of sorts by now? Shouldn't he have someone here with him at the very least?

Lucifer came back dressed in one of his customary black and red silk robes. He looked even more fatigued, if such a thing were possible. She watched him plop down on the Italian leather couch, kicking some empty cans away to make room for his long frame.

"Lucifer."

"You were... serious?" 

"Of course I was!" She huffed, exasperated, "Bed. _Now._ "

Lucifer stared at her as if she were a puzzle that could never be solved.

"Why do you even care?" He asked at last, brow furrowed.

It wasn't a malicious statement. It held no venom, no bite. Instead, it was hopeless and lost; begging for understanding. Her heart shattered and her insides turned to ice, something breaking inside of her at the genuine confusion marring his features.

"Come on." She said softly, hand at his shoulder.

Lucifer followed her without any complaints, eyeing his bed with horror.

The cracks in her heart deepened. 

She layed him down, pulling the covers up to his chest without really thinking about it. Lucifer kept regarding her with curiosity, unfamiliar with her 'weird' actions.

How could he be? If the image he painted of his past life was even half accurate, then she was willing to bet that he had never been taken care of like this in his long, long years. How was she supposed to ignore him and carry on with her day? How was she supposed to go on, fully aware of all the pain and injustice that seemed to be the recurring theme of his existence?

"I'll wake you up, I promise." She told him, sitting next to him as he fidgeted under the covers, "I'll figure it out, Lucifer. Have a little trust in me." She added a small smile for good measure, smoothing the sheets for him.

He nodded after several minutes, almost to himself.

How scared must he have been of the whole sleep-flying debacle? His eyes kept snapping open every time he almost surrendered to sleep's hold, full of terror. He eyed the drawer at the far corner hungrily. If her guess was right, and it usually was, that drawer was where some his drug stash was stored.

"I apologize for yelling at you." He whispered, startling her out of her thoughts, "That was... out of line."

"Don't worry about it." She smiled, unsure of what to say or do.

"Why are you letting me do this?" She mused, "I'm not complaining, but it seems... odd."

"You remind me of her." Lucifer whispered, so low that she barely caught it, "Mum. She... It isn't that she, uh, took your body as a vessel. You are... like her. Sometimes. I can't but see her sometimes when I look at you no matter how hard I try." He laughed then, cold and self-deprecating, "Pathetic, isn't it?"

"It really isn't." Charlotte declared. Her hand moved, almost subconsciously, finding its way to his dishevelled hair. She stroked it gently, reminiscent of all the times she spent doing the same to her kids after coming home to find them asleep.

Lucifer froze at her ministrations, his wide eyes following her hand as if were a beast to be weary of. 

She didn't stop. As a matter of fact, she ignored her own mortification at her actions and went on offering comfort to the sleepy devil. As expected, he relaxed after a while. However, his eyes kept snapping open sporadically, fighting slumber with a tenacity that must have been a huge part of what had allowed him to survive for so  
long.

"I miss her sometimes." He mumbled, leaning in to her hand, demanding more of her gentleness without even knowing it. Classically touch-starved. 

Would he even be confessing such a thing to her under normal circumstances?

"I know I'm not supposed to." He continued, "It's foolish to do so even, knowing that it is impossible to see her again having sent her to a new universe just for her and all that myself, but I miss her sometimes. I try to pretend that I don't care, but I do and it _hurts_ , Charlotte. How do I make it stop hurting?"

She felt a tear slip down her cheek. It was good that his eyes were closed, unable to see her break down and cry for him.

"She... she wasn't a good mother for most of my life." He smiled, bitterness almost palpable, "But... but she saved me. Stopped Him from obliterating me. I like to think that she cared and she just was not that good at showing it. Better to think of that instead of dwelling on how disappointed she must be in me..."

"Disappointed?" She found the words escaping her mouth, loud and affronted, "Whatever the hell for?"

Lucifer didn't say anything, shifting a bit so that his head was in a more comfortable position, closer to her.

"Well," Charlotte said, bringing her other hand up to his face to caress his stubbled cheek, "we've established that I don't know much when it comes to all of this celestial... drama, _but_ I know for a matter of fact that I would have been proud to call you my son, Lucifer."

His eyes flew open and he _laughed._

Charlotte was aghast. He continued laughing of all things.

"That is very sweet of you to say, dearest Charlotte, but really now..."

"I am serious!" She smacked his arm lightly, "You're a good man, Lucifer Morningstar. I would have been proud to call you my son." She repeated, solemn and serious before returning her hand to stroke his hair.

Lucifer leaned back into his pillows, regarding her with suspiscion. It was almost as if he was waiting for her to declare that it was all joke or a misunderstanding.

"I _am_ serious, Lucifer." She sighed, the wetness at the corners of his eyes making her want to bawl her own eyes out.

He didn't say anything, staring at the ceiling.

"Stop stalling and sleep." She ordered, her voice softer than she remembered it being in a long, long time, "I'll watch over you, Lucifer, I promise."

His lips wobbled and he tried to say something. The Lord of Hell squinted, letting the air out unused. She didn't need him to say anything, not with the way wonder and gratitude were shining from his dark eyes.

Charlotte leaned over, pressing a tender, motherly kiss to his clammy forehead. Lucifer's breath hitched and he froze.

When returned to her previous position next to him, going back to running her hands through his hair and along the tired lines of his face, she found his eyes screwed tightly shut.

She knew that he was hiding, almost even more helpless than she was with all these emotions and conversations. Charlotte didn't care, not when it allowed his breaths to deepen. His body relaxed, sinking into the expensive sheets. Lucifer snuffled, his brow tensing for one last time before relaxing completely.

He looked peaceful, calm at last.

As a matter of fact, he didn't look anything short of _adorable._

Charlotte Richards found it incredibly easy to stay by his side for the next several hours, just taking care of him and guarding his weary slumber.

Lucifer slept on, comforted by her motherly affection regardless of what brought it on or allowed it to come to life. 

There were no sleep-flying incidents that night as well.

**Author's Note:**

> So... Hope you liked it?
> 
> For anyone who feels like reading a prompt to brighten up their self-isolation, just let us know!
> 
> Come make your quarantine more fun on Twitter:  
> https://twitter.com/NerdQueen777?s=09


End file.
